Angel
by shalalablup
Summary: Just like that, in an instant Gil's life had meaning again. So why did his heart still hurt so much?


**Notes by the Author:** A blip of the English translation of one of the ending songs of the anime Re:Zero was used to convey the thoughts Gil had for 10 years of Oz's absence. It practically asked to be included.

Pure Ozbert feels, Ozbert for life.

 **Angel**

Gingerly, Gilbert Nightray carried Oz in his arms, as if he were carrying an angel on a pillow of delicate feathers. Yet the feathers that now carried him were neither fine nor delicate, but smooth and firm – the large, pitch black feathers of a raven. A raven who could fly home at last.

Break and Sharon had offered their assistance, but the tall, dark creature had refused, his voice rising to a crescendo without intent as he so did, the grip of his talons unwittingly tightening around the fragile cargo. All surroundings suddenly seemed jagged, sharp and garish to Gilbert's eyes, like the bright light that had returned the young Master – ready to close in, attack, and take the boy once more. No matter what would happen next, it was a fate the Nightray would prevent at all costs.

Alone with the core of his universe at last, the Raven dressed each of the boy's wounds with care and a silent prayer he not yet awaken, or feel any pain.

Like the tightening of a thin metal thread around the man's tender heart, the sight of tattered, filthy clothes and gaping red flesh dug deep into the Raven's very being, leaving each breath only halfway, not enough space left for his lungs to expand as the thread became more and more unforgiving.

Gilbert Nightray hadn't prayed in years.

Wandering hands which had matured in the absence of their Master trembled as they removed the rags from Oz's form, daring to touch the skin that had been but a memory for 10 endless years.

A cry of agony and relief escaped as quivering digits first felt the soft flesh of the young Master – as if the thread around the Raven's heart, quick as it had been set in place, was now released, and a great many boulders had rolled off his soul.

 _I wonder what you're thinking right now…_

 _I have not yet cried,_

 _But I do feel lonesome_

 _all by myself…_

 _And I've prayed_

 _this whole time…_

 _Stay alive…_

 _Stay alive…_

 _Stay alive...!_

Trailing the magnificent landscape of his Master's chest, a fountain of tears poured from golden eyes, muffled, hollow screams accompanying. Like a criminal in the midst of committing, Gil held the fear of getting suddenly caught, yet being unable to stop the act. For sure he was a criminal. A monster, in fact. The _true_ embodiment of sin was what he had become.

And yet, in his mind he still could hear the voice of his former self, welcoming home the one he secretly loved.

" _Y-y-y-y-young M-Master! You're h-home! M-Master Oscar, Lady Ada, Mrs. Kate and I, everyone at the mansion…! We...were really worried! I...Young Master...I missed you so much!"_

Heartache numbing his senses, Gilbert held on tightly to the anchor of Oz's hand, it's smooth warmth tempting him to make a confession that so long had been withheld.

Countless hours seemed to have passed once Gil saw clouds lifting from the window, revealing a sky that was radiant once again.

Alas, in the play of light, the faint outlines of his current self were revealed in the window panes, erasing past memories. Gone was the servant his golden anchor might recognize - a thinner, older face instead, partially obscured by locks of messy ebony, and a slender, muscular frame, which left no doubt the onlooker was a boy no more.

A set of words then came to the Raven's mind, where they soon shattered like glass.

" _I want you to learn to simply call me Oz by the time we're grown up!"_

With the silent hush of water, Gilbert washed away his tears, and dutifully dried his golden eyes before returning to sit where he had, the sunlight he adored laying silently in slumber, covered by a white blanket cloud.

The time when they'd grown up had arrived – for one of them, at least.

And he would have to learn to call the sunlight by its name.

Oz Vessalius.


End file.
